Beautiful Nightmare
by lunatic.meap
Summary: A strange nightmare that was not so much surreal, but also not so much a nightmare.


**_A.N:_** _**IDK what I'm doing...**_

 _ **Length: ~4k (not including notes)**_

 _ **.**_

* * *

 **BEAUTIFUL NIGHTMARE**

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"I'll see you soon," he poked her in the forehead and held the deepest affections he could manage into his gaze. He turned around, but not before catching the widened emerald eyes and the blush that has crept onto her cheeks. What would he do to caress the skin where countless of her tears ran? And so many for his sake? They were like a memoire of all his past sins towards her; all the pleas, pain and love that could not be expressed with words were held in those tears that she shed. He could see the remains of those emotions still trapped somewhere on her skin, and for a moment he contemplated whether to try to brush them away, just so she could be free of whatever he had caused. But then he realized he'll only add to her suffering if he were to hold her with his blood stained hands.

He knew, one of these days, the lingering smell and essence of reminders of the darker years will disappear. _But not yet_. He often neglected the importance of time in his previous years, because it was something his life was endless rounds of battling, and time is easily forgotten. There were no difference in days besides the events that happen on them. But now, in the presence of his teammate, the pink haired girl that loved so persistently, time was something he had to give.

He settled for a fond smile, turned his head to the forest that surrounded the pathway leading away from the village and took his first steps out into his redemption journey. He'll return, but only when he deems the stains on his hand to be faded. And with the thought, he left.

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* * *

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"Am I supposed to tell you to be happy that Dickless is now married and won't be as annoying as before?"

"Since when did the idiot become less annoying?"

The pair of raven haired men sat opposite to each other at a teahouse. One was sipping lightly on his tea while the other was ordering a variety of sweets for their other two companions that has yet to make it on time.

"Since the day he became infatuated with Hinata. I read in a book that people tends to try to make their partner happy and therefore, I conclude that Dickless will spend less time being annoying to us."

"I'm supposed to be happy that Naruto found a new victim to torture?"

"I supposed so, yes. Which reminds me. When are you going to ask her out?"

"Who?"

"Ugly, of course. When are you two going to actually get married? I've actually read up on marriage rituals and traditions, and I can totally give you a hand if you need to know anything in relation to the wedding night and-"

Uchiha Sasuke wasn't known for having the best temper. He was also known for not having any sort of close relationship with Sai. And Sai was known for his straightforward approach that tends to…infuriate those he directs it to. To speak of the subject of the Uchiha's sex life was a button to open the gates of a dam where embarrassment and violence go hand in hand. And like water, Sasuke's temper was unpredictable.

When pink haired medic arrived late to the casual team hangout, she was greeted with an all too familiar sight. Her very blond friend held a frightened expression – one he would have around her when she erupts in annoyance or anger – as he raised his arms to shield her very emotionally clueless friend that always held the most monotonic smile from her glaring emo of a teammate who was fuming with irritability. Aside from the mocha that was burning in black flames, Sakura was sure there were no significant damage done to the place – much to her relief. She had expected a pleasant afternoon out that day, where she can stop worrying about other people and just be free of responsibilities. But she could only hope so much when her other teammates happen to be under the same roof. Sometimes she felt like a single mother with 3 children; three very destructive children.

"Must you three always act like children?" she sighed as she sat between the still somewhat outwardly raging man and the other two cowering 'supposedly' Nine tails' jinchuriki and ANBU. "You know, I feel kinda bad for Kakashi-sensei for having to deal with you guys when we were younger, because now I know _exactly_ what it feels like to take care of twelve year olds 24/7."

"Sasuke has something to tell you," Sai piped up.

The said Uchiha snapped, "Shut up."

"It's about your wedding night and the amount of-"

"What? Wedding night? Sai, what on earth are you - Sasuke-kun!" Sakura yelped in surprised as she was picked up by Sasuke and was transported away from the teahouse. The next moment, she was staring down at her village from the top of the Hokage monuments.

Slightly dazed by the abrupt transport, she stared confusingly at his back, "What was that about?"

His face and neck was growing warmer by the minute, despite the wind brushing pass them, "He's an idiot, don't bother trying to understand."

"But he's not wrong, isn't he?"

He didn't respond, because all he could think about right then was the fact that Sai almost killed him. He scowled slightly, but Sakura didn't notice.

"Sasuke-kun, do you have something to tell me?" she prodded.

He was officially embarrassed for the next few words he was intending to say felt so unnatural and all too emotional on his tongue. But he was going to say it, because if not, he might not get another chance.

He silently cursed Sai for ruining his life, and turned his face towards the girl who loves him. Or the woman, he should say. She has changed since the last time he came home, and no longer held the soft looks of her teenage self. And she looked all too beautiful in the spring of Konoha, where the blossom of her namesake was blowing in the wind. It made her look almost like the goddess of spring as the petals dance across her hair and clothes, every once in a while brushing the open skin of her face, neck and arm. Oh, how jealous was he of the wind that so easily brushed the beautiful blossom.

With all thoughts aside (including very murderous intentions towards you-know-who), he spoke, "Yes."

She might have been a little disappointed with his one worded response. But this was Sasuke, and she was lucky that she even got a one worded response. She knew well enough from her teenage years that Sasuke would just usually grunt, nod, or glare to express his words. And it had always been difficult for him to speak his words after everyone he loves died. So she only stared curiously at him, and waited for an elaboration.

Little to her knowledge, Sasuke was only so lost in her gaze, and felt almost too nervous – which is a first – to even speak his next words.

"I'm leaving next week."

Her expression fell immediately as she received the news, "Oh."

Sakura didn't expect for him to stay in Konoha forever, but she had expected for him to stay longer. Every time he walked out the gate, she could feel a small part of herself aching, telling her to run after him and ask him to let her come with. But it was something she knew he held the calls in. She smiled sadly, "Then I think we should stop wasting our time doing nothing and spend whatever time we have left with you until you leave, right?"

The Uchiha can see clearly how his words pained her. He can feel his conscience kicking him in the head for being such a douchebag. For a moment he wished he could just take the words back and pretend nothing happened, until he realised another way to transmit his next thoughts.

Looking into her eyes, he brought all his courage, whatever confidence and emotions he had into his next words, hoping, praying, to the god to grant his wish.

"I want you to come with me."

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* * *

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The 2am alarm signalled; the baby was once again wailing, much to the dismay of the adults in the nearby room.

Sakura groaned at the small crying she heard – she loves kids, she does, but it used to be "other people's" kid – and willed herself to open her eyes. She blinked tiredly, seeing a blurry figure of her bedside table as her eyes adjusted slowly. She now understood why mothers had such a love-hate relationship with their kids at the beginning of parenthood.

The louder wail reminded her of her midnight attendance, and sighed into the ceiling, still half-asleep. A shuffle and movements on the bed said that her husband was also awake – not that he was ever a deep sleeper. He mumbled, "I'll handle it," and left the comforts.

Deciding that Sasuke is more than qualified to take care of their child in her sleep induced state that was too tired and groggy to be able to blink away the sleepiness, the woman said a word of gratitude to him, and was soon back in her slumber.

Meanwhile, Sasuke crawled into their child's bedroom, and picked up the baby from her crib. He rocked her gently in his arm as he paced around the room, calming her down somewhat while waiting for the milk to heat up. His eyes drooped ever so slightly once he sat down in a chair to feed her, but his hand still had steady grips of her.

The girl was no more than six months old, and has been causing a ruckus ever since her fifth month – which is the cause of Sakura's constant grumpiness in the amount of sleep she's lacking of. She weighed little when she was a newborn, which was a rather scary thought because she was at least a few weeks premature. Sarada almost gave her father a heart attack for her sudden arrival. Though slightly grossed out, Sasuke had held her in his arms afterwards, to find the image of the child that would one day grow to look like him and Sakura; he couldn't be happier.

She slept in his arms, now quiet and full after her hunger was taken care of. Contended at last, Sasuke gingerly got up to put the baby back into her crib. She was mostly a resemblance of him, these days. She had the Uchiha's black eyes, and the tuffs of hair that began to show up were of the same colour, and especially the amount of complaints about food were all his, Sakura said. But every once in a while, he would Sarada up to mischievous troubles with a bright smile that he knew belonged to her mother.

Sometimes he was jealous of Sakura for this. Her smile was the reason why many things still live, like him, for example, and how lucky was his daughter to inherit those same smile and could so easily possess his heart. But he didn't mind; Sarada was someone he had wholeheartedly let in before the girl even asked. He was grateful she was there.

With his duty well done, he returned to his room, but leaned at the doorway for a while to see his wife soundly asleep in his t-shirt – she found that it was a better fit for her at the end of her pregnancy – and shorts with her hair splayed across the pillows. She was bigger than she was before her pregnancy, and she was working to get back into her previous body shape. Her stomach still had its swollen look – albeit not as much, but still there – and held white stretch marks.

She had many marks on her body that she wasn't very proud of. He never said it, but he liked those marks that told her battles. Several on her back were tales of her bravery; one in particular that coordinated with the one on her stomach, he heard was from the puppet master Sasori, to which he was immensely honoured to have seen. But his favourite would always come to the several white lines that proved the warrior's love for him – ones given to her from the 9 months of pregnancy.

No one understood why she would have married him – and he, too, wondered on numerous occasions how the woman before him managed to love him for so long, through all the pain and heartaches he had given her. It was another thing he envied her for: her heart.

Her heart that beats so strong even in the most hopeless and despairing situations. Her heart that loves and endures – something he could have never done in her shoes. He admired it, and he loved it, now, when he had finally walked the right paths that was led by her and the idiot. And he cherished every bit of her.

He climbed back into the comforts of the sheets, where she laid and held onto her waist. Sakura subconsciously – or somewhat consciously – curled into his embrace. Her breath softly tickled his skin as she tucked herself nearer to his warmth, and she let out a soft sigh of contentment.

Out of instinct, he raised his right hand to brush the mess of pink that was hiding her face – he can still remember once when they were long and choppy. He trailed his fingers down her forehead where her diamond mark reside to the bridge of her nose, feeling her cheeks on the back of his hand and down towards her jawline and held her chin. He was tempted to brush her slightly parted lips where soft gushes of air left her lungs, but decided against it. He brought his hand down to the side of her neck, where he rested his hand on her collar bone, his palm touch just above her heart. His fingers slightly grazing her neck at her pulse point. The faint beating thrummed softly under his fingertips, lulling him to sleep.

His eyesight blurred, and the image of the woman beside him was becoming unrecognisable. He blinked several times to hold off on his sleep, trying for just a few moments longer to admire her. He was on the verge of falling asleep, when something strange, something that shouldn't be there, snapped his eyes open.

Staring at him were a pair of eyes, filled with incomprehensible pain, utter sadness and guilt. They were green. The green that reminded him of the better days where the forest shook with happy tunes, the green of the meadows where dandelions flew in the wind, the green that he had come to know and love. But it was flickering, and the colour was shifting from the bright jade to the darker and duller shade of the leaves about to wither.

The pupil shook, but only due to the stinging pain from futilely holding back the tears that brimmed the edges of the eyes, cascading into waterfalls down the skin of her face. Some were caught at the caught at the corner of her lips, now rose red from the blood that regurgitated through her mouth.

He knew who this was. He recognised her anywhere, because he only knew one person with such a hair colour. And her eyes, her lips. He'll recognise her anywhere because she was _her._ But she didn't look like the woman who was sleeping on the bed in a black shirt. She was younger, her face held the rawness of a teenager, her hair was choppy, but short, and she was wearing a white cloak with two red stripes running across the bottom edge. His blood went cold upon recognition. It was her, it was Sakura, but she looked so much younger.

His arm felt warm and wet, as if it was covered in some sort of liquid, and it was clear to him why. His hand was wedge in her chest, up to his forearm; he can feel the erratic beatings of her heart fading the redder his fingers became. The pulse no longer pounded against his wrist.

He looked at her, eyes wide and heart filled with both some strange unnerving satisfaction and grief.

 _This is not what I want. This is not supposed to happen. I'm sorry… I'm sorry…_

He repeated the phrases over and over in his head, but not managing a single syllable on his lips. He could see the whirl of thoughts flashing across her eyes when she looked at him, but there was only one thing that he noticed in the end.

A tug at the lips, showing a sincere and pained smile. It moved slightly to reveal the blood-stained teeth underneath, and continued to move, creating different shapes that allowed for words after words to vibrate to his ears.

They were quiet, almost inaudible.

Like a whisper…

She fell against him, smile still plastered on her once pristine clean face. He could feel the warmth of her body against him, and his hand, too, was still warm, but it didn't feel alive.

She was gone.

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* * *

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The man woke, immediately sitting up to look at his surroundings and coordinate himself. His dark hair was sweat soaked and matted to his head. His back was soaked as well, clinging irritably like a leech that just won't come off. His ragged breathing and appearance was the only visible proof of his nightmare ever happening.

 _It was a dream._

It was a nightmare he had yet to experience in a long time. It once ghosted him in his teenage years, and every time he were to return to Konoha, it would reappear. It could be because he was always constantly thinking of her when he returned – he always thought of the 'if's in his life – whether it be happy or…other thoughts. Or maybe it was because of the date.

He wasn't back home yet.

Uchiha Sasuke was still a few hours away from Konoha, his birthplace. When he finally realised his purpose of travelling from the day before, he got up and went about quickly through his morning routine and pack to leave to once more return to the gates of his village.

His journey was swift and silent; the only noises that could be heard were the rustling of the leaves and the tap of his sandals against the trees and ground. Yet his mind was reeling with thoughts on meeting his friends again – or those that still considered him his friends. He had no doubts that his talk with the Dobe would be easy, and though there were much words to be spoken, he didn't worry. It was his talk with a particular someone else that was bothering him.

He easily crossed the village's gate, and casually walked to the inn he had stayed at so many times before during his period of visits home in between his redemption journey. He dumped his gear in one corner of the room and dropped gracefully – he was an Uchiha – onto the mattress for a while then headed out, knowing well that his idiot of a best friend had already sensed his presence in the village. So with much sadness of leaving his already comfortable position, he left his accommodation.

They greeted, and had their casual lunch, catching up with each other's life. Their banters were ones held between very close friends – many subjects ranging from sexual innuendos to frogs – and their laughs were genuine.

"Did you see her yet?" the blond asked in between his bites of ramen.

"Who?" Sasuke knew exactly who, but he asked anyways.

"You know who. Sakura-chan, of course!"

"I thought you would have told her already."

"I think she likes it better when you go see her for yourself."

"Hn…I haven't."

"Go see her."

"I will."

They part ways, and Sasuke found himself wandering down the path to the flower shop of the Yamanakas. He almost never saw her at the flower shop, and it was certain to him that he will never find her there, but some sort of strange force compelled him drop by where another quite surprised blonde.

"I didn't expect to find you here," she said with a forced smile.

"Neither did I," he replied as he scanned the variety of flowers in the shop. "I'll take a bouquet."

"Of what?"

"I don't know; you tell me. It's for her."

Ino smiled wryly, "I'd never expect you to be giving flowers. Imagine what the rest of our old class would say to see the famed Uchiha bringing a bouquet somewhere."

Seeing no response from him, she sighed at her misfortune for meeting infamous emotionless Uchiha on a sunny day, and headed to the back of the shop. She carefully selected a bunch of flowers and wrapped them up nicely in a bundle. Then she brought it out to him, "She used to bring these to your hospital room back when you were recovering from Chuunin exam."

Some small part of him shuddered at the sound of the words, reminded of the terrible big mistakes that were first taken were all during the exam. He pushed it away, and held down the queasy feeling in his stomach.

He made his payment, and left the flower shop. He wound his way through the village, walking slowly with billions of questions in mind. He suddenly felt like a child, unable to speak, unable to shut off his mind and listen. They were all questions he had for her, and he saw the disconnections in his dialogue. He won't be able to speak to her this way, and he had no idea of what he was doing. He knew she hasn't changed since the last time he spoke to her – he never had to worry about her changing. But he wondered how much more patience does she have left to listen to his strange rants. But he guess she would at least appreciate him trying to strike a conversation.

He strolled down the familiar road and headed towards the place he knew she will be – he had it memorised, _engraved_ into his memory. He kept moving, no longer in control of his own muscles as they make their own ways to her. He stopped with his feet in the grass.

The summer was usually pleasant in Konoha. Every year it would be the same, where the sun was hot, and the wind was cool. The sky would be a constant blue and the ground would smell of the grass. This day last year was the same as this year, and the years before that too. It was a beautiful day.

Sasuke kneeled, to look at the tombstone. Whether he was in thought, or just reminiscing in something, he stood still as the wind ruffled his hair and clothes quietly. He placed the bouquet to one side, and started to clean the grave of weeds and dust. There weren't many, for it was obvious by the lilies that was already placed there. He then rested the bouquet of daffodils in front of the tombstone, and stood up again.

The breeze was cool against his face, reminding him of the deafening silence that he had casted between them. He understood why she loved the summer so much, despite her name being spring. She smelled and looked like spring too, it he remembered correctly. In his dreams, she was older, but she was still someone with the looks to admire. It was a strange dream he had, a life he would have, or more likely could have had.

Looking down at the engraved name of Haruno Sakura in stone, he knew then what he was going to talk about.

"Tadaima, Sakura."

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* * *

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 _My biggest regret… is not... being able… to be by your side all these years… and the years after this…. I'm sorry… Sasuke-k… for not h-healing your heart… I had… hoped… these medic's hands would… but… I'm sorry I... couldn't bring you home…_

 _Forgive me._

* * *

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 _ **A/N:**_ _So the title might be more or less inspired by Rihanna, but the content was inspired by this SS doujinshi from the Japanese SS community (i think) I saw on Tumblr wayyyyyy back. And it was late at the time, so i just quickly wrote down the idea and took months later to finish. Which also means I forgot to write down my source of inspiration, and I'm so sorry because it was a really good doujinshi._

 _The ending was really weird for me in a way because I was wondering where to put it (like at where Sak died, or in between the part where Sauce visited the grave), but I decided to just stick it in the end, as i originally planned (because idk why I just love to have Sakura say the same shit that Itachi said to Sasuke before he died)._

 _2nd longest fic to date (?) and I should really stop trying to write so much things that i dont need to write._

 _Anyways, hope you enjoyed :)_

 ** _REVIEWS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!_**

 **NLTM**


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